Barefoot In Bishopgate
by Measured
Summary: They shared a name and an apartment but not much else, but maybe the old adage of ‘opposites attract’ was true after all. Nana/Hachi.


Title: Barefoot In Bishopsgate  
Theme/day: 9/25) falling in love is searching for missing pieces of ourselves  
Series: Nana  
Character/pairing: Nana/Hachi  
Summary: They shared a name and an apartment but not much else, but maybe the old adage of 'opposites attract' was true after all.  
Rating: PG  
Author's Note: comment_fic: Nana/Hachi, The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love. The title is from Ion Square by Bloc Party.

**.**

They shared a name and an apartment but not much else, but maybe the old adage of 'opposites attract' was true after all. She liked to think that, and to believe that romance fiction was often just a step away from real life.

When it was late they brought in takeout and ate barefoot and cross-legged on the couch with rented movies. Hachi loved romantic comedies, which surprised no one. There was just something about a happy ending that got to her, even if everything was predictable at times. Nana liked obscure neo-noir and horror flicks. Obscure American titles like Mullholland Drive and Bound were always on the top of her list.

Hachi would watch them...but only if she could cling to Nana whenever it got frightening and sleep close all night. Nana didn't snuggle much, but Hachi made up for it with the way she entwined their limbs and nuzzled to the side of her neck.

Their life together wasn't the complicated, really. Nana practiced and Hachi worked a string of jobs, all minimum wage. She didn't mind, she was blissfully happy, happier than she'd ever been.

Once Hachi had gotten the idea to wear a black wig and donned a pair of leather pants, combat boots, a tie and a black camisole with a barbed-wire pattern. She'd even put on makeup to look the part, though she wasn't tall enough to pass for Nana. For her part, Nana utterly refused to try on the blond wig and pink floral skirt and cute matching blouse Hachi had bought for her side of the bargain. Hachi pouted, but Nana wouldn't relent, even if it _would_ be a good anecdote after they'd tricked the band.

(Besides, the surprise would only last seconds, but wouldn't that be worth the laugh?)

But Hachi never sulked long, and soon she was dragging Nana off to take pictures together at a photobooth or to see the new Zoo together. Every day was like an endless summer. She knew all the members of the band by name and was in the habit of bringing punch and store-bought cookies to every meeting. She couldn't cook well but she did make the punch...from a can.

One of them always inevitably added Rum or Vodka to the punch and soon they'd all be sloshed and singing sailor shanties. (Yasu, who had learned to avoid the punch always said Hachi could be a backup singer if they ever changed their genre to Screamo sea shanties. She always took that as a compliment.)

Hachi thought Shin might be the culprit in the Mystery Of Who Is Spiking The Punch, as Nobu was too straight-laced and Shin always did have a sort of mysterious side to him. Besides, he slept with women for money! Who knows what stunt a guy who did that might try.

Whenever Nana's gigs ran too long, Hachi would steal some of her nailpolish and paint all her fingernails and toenails black. She used to think black was a sad color, one like death and night. Now she saw it as a stark, dramatic color. She liked it now.

She'd send texts to Nana's cell knowing that she'd not get the _i miss u (sadface heart)_ until probably the next morning. Nana hated cellphones, especially when she was playing. Still, it helped her pass the time if she'd had to stay for work.

And when Nana would finally return, they'd paint over the black with something else. Nana had a distinct feud with the color pink, so they'd settled for a pale blue color. She liked sky blue. Sometimes she'd look up at that sky in all its clearness and feel so happy just to have a seen such a color. It was all full of hope and tenderness. Sometimes she wanted to lift her hands up to it and sing even if she could only sing Scremo sea shanties when drunk because that was just how being with Nana made her feel. Hopeful, tender, alive.


End file.
